What the Heart Hides
by SunRise19
Summary: After Pocahontas II. If she could bury his compass in the snow surely she could do the same with what is truly in her heart. Until an accident and a visit to an apothecary seem to pour all of her hidden longings out like water down a waterfall. PLZ RR!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi all!

First of all, I hope everyone is doing well! Take a break and enjoy the first chapter of this fic. Also, thank Hc247 and babyb26 because without the nagging, I mean encouragement and motivation this would not have gotten done. I love you guys!

All comments, reviews, constructive criticism and even suggestions or ideas are greatly welcomed! Feel free to private message me anytime and I will do my absolute best to get back to you!

Flames will always be used to light firewood and candles.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pocahontas. History and Disney co. own everything. I do own any original character you do not recognize. If you wish to borrow them a quick message to ask me would be very thoughtful of you!

Enjoy and Please Please review on your way out! More reviews equals more writing muses showing up! I really appreciate all of you!

-…-…-

It should have been a simple shopping trip.

A shopping trip where nothing eventful would happen. It would be simple and easy.

An excursion for her to get fresh air and time to truly look at the old city of London. A calming trip where she could actually appreciate the sights.

It was also one that her fiancé, John Rolfe asked her to go for he wanted her opinion on what she thought would be best to take back for the natives.

"We need to smooth things over," John Rolfe began as he glanced down at the list in his hand, "I need to smooth things over. Especially with your father if I am to win his blessing."

Pocahontas arched an eyebrow, "Winn his blessing? I am certain the new peace treaty you negotiated with the king will do quite nicely."

"Yes," he replied, "I know however our marriage could or could not be a part of the peace.-"

They had just exited the comfortable carriage and were heading towards the first store when a voice seemingly sliced through the air.

"John Rolfe!"

Both of them startled as the high pitched voice seemed to shriek his name in the crowd, "John Rolfe! John Rolfe! Is it really you? I thought you left! Can you please move? Excuse me! Thank you, sorry thank you!"

Some of the crowd politely parted ways whilst others were hurriedly brushed aside as a woman wearing an emerald colored gown finally reached the couple. Pocahontas stood awkwardly on the side of the road whilst Rolfe kissed the pretty brunette's hand.

"I am so relieved to see you!" she gushed at the same time the native princess winced at her voice.

"My brother you know Robert told me that you had already left, followed by my sister; you remember Rose do you not? Anyhow, she heard from her friend Martha's aunt that your ship had indeed not left and…-"

As the young lady in front of them took a breath Rolfe cut in, "This is Patricia Winters. Our parents grew up together."

"Yes," Patricia said on a breath, "I would, I mean my father would love to invite you over to dine with us before you go. Is that?"

It was then she stopped, ever so slightly narrowing her green eyes at the woman in front of her, "Who is this again?"

"My name is Pocahontas," the princess replied, "I am from.-"

"The new world," Patricia gasped, "I am so sorry I have heard and I glimpsed you somewhere but I easily forget things. Do you forgive me?"

"Of course.-"

"Oh good! John Rolfe, please say you will come and dine? It would be an honor to have you and Pocahon…-"

An awkward pause followed as Patricia's eyes swept the crowd so fast that even the native princess found it difficult to follow her line of sight. She would have sworn the emerald eyes had rotated all around the multitude without the young woman even blinking.

Another moment of silence past before Patricia exclaimed, "Look! Look! I can't believe it! Tis John Smith! John Smith! I cannot believe!-"

'I'm surprised she isn't leaping for joy.'

Pocahontas could not help the sardonic thought that went through her mind. Patricia seemed to exude a strange type of energy that the princess found out of place for such a high class English lady. It made her briefly wonder what the nobles thought of the overly exuberant woman.

That said woman placed a quick hand to her mouth and moved closer towards the couple, "Father says not to have anything to do with him. However, with his new high standing with the king and well… Everyone knows of the famous Captain John Smith! Everyone! I mean everyone! I don't know if you have heard the rumors say he will publish a book of his various adventures! Is that not thrilling?"

As she spoke, Pocahontas slightly turned her head the direction Patricia had indicated. Sure enough, he was hurriedly walking down another street. She could not refrain from pondering if he could hear Patricia's voice talking about him as she watched the wind play with the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. It was then Pocahontas slowly turned to face Rolfe and the overly friendly girl. Her dark eyes took in the surroundings whilst listening to Rolfe try to get out of the situation they had found themselves.

"Miss, I do appreciate your invitation. However, I fear I must… Well, we have a lot to do and…"

'Is this what you want?'

A voice screamed in her head as she looked down at her own dress. Though not as fancy as Patricia's, it was simple yellow and had ruffled material around the high neckline. It was either the itchiness of her gown or the headache brought on by Patricia's voice that made her act in such a way.

"Please," Pocahontas interrupted one of them, "I have to get some air. Will you excuse me?"

She couldn't even muster an apologetic glance in Rolfe's direction before gathering her skirts and dashing away. She had simply turned and approached an intersection. Knowing that Smith had taken a left, she took the other way in order to avoid him.

'Why?'

It was that same voice, the one that the woman knew she had been ignoring for the past three weeks. The thought that would follow her during the day and torment her at night. Head down, she wove her way through the various squares and open markets the city had to offer. As there seemed to be a hold up of people ahead, Pocahontas slowed her pace along the road. What had started as a light jog was now a meandering walk through London. The place she had not even heard of until John Smith had told her about it. A place she could not have even imagined. Yet here she was, a well to do beautiful, "reformed savage," and she was happy.

Happy that all had gone well with her people. Ecstatic for peace. Truly knowing all would be well was worth everything. Despite a few missing details, she smiled and tried to calm her nerves. She could no longer hear Patricia's voice and although the young lady was friendly this fact alone made Pocahontas's spirits rise considerably.

"I am content," the native woman said under her breath as the people slowed in front of her, "I am happy. Happy, very happy! Why should I not be?"

'Are you? Knowing what they think of you? Do you not realize how Rolfe sees you?'

Before she had time to quiet her mind a sudden shout startled her musings, "Watch!"

She felt the air leave her lungs. A sudden collision found her sprawled out on the road, her fine gown getting instantly covered in muck from the streets.

"Oh! I am so sorry!"

A voice seemed to float on the wind whilst Pocahontas lay surrounded by boxes and bags of all sorts. A particular heavy sack landed on her abdomen thus preventing her movement. The person didn't appear to notice as he knelt and gathered the strewn items on the road.

"Are you alright? I did not realize the people had…"

She knew that voice. She would always recognize it for the rest of her life. Hence the native's mouth dropped open before her eyes came back into focus. Only to see the mere man that she had been avoiding kneeling barely two feet away.

"You… You…"

It seemed all she could gasp out as she tried to move the heavy item off of her.

"Oh! Sorry…"

In an instant the sack was moved and Pocahontas was able to sit up. She coughed once as her lungs took in a full breath of air.

"Pocahontas!"

For a brief moment, she relished the look of surprise on his face before he looked down.

"I am very sorry I ran into you," John Smith regretfully apologized as he stood gathering his things, "Are you alright? Do you need a hand up?"

Dumbfounded, Pocahontas shook her head as if to clear it. Placing her palm on the ground in order to get back on her feet, she winced as pressure was applied.

Seeing the brief but pained look on her face, John smith placed down his packages and knelt at her side.

"I'm fine… Just a little…"

Without a word, she watched as he gently picked up her hand and examined it. Following his gaze, she saw that part of her palm was scraped and little pieces of skin that looked to her like tiny fingers surrounded a cut across the area near her wrist. The two of them sat like that, staring at the offending wound as if blaming it for appearing. The woman trying to ignore the warmth of his sturdy hand and how tender his hold felt.

"I'm fi…-"

"Come with me," he interrupted as Smith; not letting go of her hand stood thus forcing Pocahontas to do the same. To her amazement he went slowly until they both were steady on their feet. That was when he released her hand and bent to retrieve all his possessions.

"Thank you," she began as she tried to brush herself off, "I really must be getting back. I am certain John Rolfe will be worried and I am sure he will have the appropriate care…-"

"At his estate no doubt," he cut her off again, "Whilst I have things now if you will follow me."

Pocahontas took a step back while the city bustled past them, "It is alright. You do not have to…-"

"I realize that but…-"

"It can wait to get seen…-"

"Do you want an infection?"

She shook her head, "I am merely saying…-"

She watched a shoulder lift in a half shrug, "I have seen infections of the hand and…-"

'A lady always shows decorum.'

The thought floated across her mind as her other hand fisted in the fabric of her dress.

Speaking slow as if to a child she began, "I must get back and try to find…-"

"Come now, there is some blood on your arm I can…-"

It seemed in that moment all reason and rational thought had left her. For not only she was annoyed at the turn of events, a spark of anger had lit from somewhere deep in her soul.

'How dare him! How dare he care now!' A voice screamed in her head as John took a step closer.

"I am alright! I could have been back by now!...-"

"If you would…-"

"Stop interrupting me! Can I not get in a word? If I leave here then my group won't be able to find me. Do you not understand?"

"Ah yes," John began as he shifted his weight, "John Rolfe and Patricia Winters. Tell me, how is that conversation going?"

Pocahontas gritted her teeth in exasperation whilst John Smith turned and started walking back the way he had come. She watched him go after a few paces he stopped and looked back at her.

"Are you not coming? I am aware that your hand has to hurt."

His tone almost seemed mocking to her. However, and she wasn't sure if it were the throbbing sensation in her hand or her mind wanting to think that underneath it was also genuine concern.

It was the wind who made up her mind. Whilst a strong gust suddenly blew, lose dirt combined with the sudden cold made her gasp in surprise and clench her injured hand in protest.

"A-alright," she mumbled more to herself as she shyly took a few steps forward. They walked in silence, John Smith carrying his packages and Pocahontas following with one hand fisted in the fabric of her dress and the other close to her side. She kept her dark eyes on the ground lest she fall again, although she knew this accident was not her doing.

"This is your fault," she bit out suddenly whilst matching her pace to walk beside him, "If you had watched where you were going this would not have happened."

His tone seemed bored, "If I recall you had your head down. I did not see you."

"My gown is yellow," she snapped, "It is a bright color."

"I did not see any yellow then," he remarked as they turned off the main street and headed down a less populated one.

"You were going awfully fast," Pocahontas began as she looked at her injured hand, "I do not want to keep you from any engagements or anything…"

Her voice trailed off as they continued walking. Glancing up, Pocahontas noted the stately homes and quiet surroundings.

"It is no trouble," Smith said as they turned down another side street, "I was merely going to my cart to drop these things off before continuing my shopping."

A short pause followed, "What fell on me? Twas so heavy I couldn't sit up!"

"Ah," he seemed to think for a moment, "That would be salt."

The word hung in the air between them until they finally stopped at the side of the road. Looking up, Pocahontas noticed a wooden cart. A sorrel glanced up from some grass it was chewing as if acknowledging John's approach.

"That is Storm," he said as the horse let out a sound, "She's a good one."

"She is very pretty," Pocahontas let out a little smile as Storm seemed to bob her head in appreciation of the complement.

"She is pretty and fast," John replied as he stroked the horse's nose, "We have gotten to know one another quite well over the years."

Pocahontas nodded as John moved some boxes off the bench of the cart and held out his arm, "Do you need help up here? I will be better able to see your hand."

"I am fine," the native answered as she lifted her skirts so as not to step on them and held onto the other seat in order to get herself on the cart. Whilst gathering her gown's material around her legs, Pocahontas gingerly opened her scraped palm. She winced as the damp air came in contact with the cut skin.

"Here," he was already beside her as John took the injured hand. She watched as he rested it on his knee before lifting it closer towards his face in order to get a better look.

"I will just clean and bandage it. I think… I think that is all it needs…"

He stopped talking whilst turning her wrist and Pocahontas could not help but flinch.

"Sorry…"

John mumbled before placing her arm down. The native remained silent as John reached in one of the smaller boxes, pulling out a few items.

"Can you hold this?"

She reached for the items, their hands brushing as John placed some clean cloth in her uninjured hand. Pocahontas gazed on as he opened the small bottle before she promptly turned her head and sneezed at the unpleasant smell.

"What is that?!"

"This is alcohol," John explained, "It is not like wine for this is used to clean wounds. This will sting."

Before she had time to object, the alcohol soaked cloth was placed over her cut hand. A sudden intake of breath and tears sprung to her eyes as her arm seemed to have a mind of its own by jerking away from the offending cloth.

'He must've been expecting this.' She thought as he let up yet her hand kept twitching.

"Sorry… Sorry… It is alright… I know I know..."

It was then she realized he was quietly speaking to her whilst dabbing the cut area.

His soothing tone did not help as after a moment the princess exclaimed, "Stop! Hell!"

He did, lowering her hand whilst Pocahontas wiped her forehead with her sleeve.

"Back home it does not hurt like that. Maybe you held it on to long?"

"I have to clean it or you may get an infection. You are also still bleeding a bit… I do not like…"

"Maybe," she said on a breath, "Maybe I we should go find Rolfe and OWWW!"

This time, her injured arm jerked out of his firm grasp and she held it close to her chest. A thin line of crimson slid down her arm and onto the sleeve of her dress.

"There is something in the wound," John began as he once again reached for her hand, "I was trying to get it out by…-"

"By putting hard pressure on the wound?"

"In order to stop the bleeding…-"

"It is not that bad for OWWW! Damn! WH-why are you pushing on the!"

A string of expletives in her own language came forth as the captain pressed on the top edge of the cut where Pocahontas could feel something sharp dig in the raw flesh.

The native bit her lip in embarrassment, "I, I am so sorry! That is not me… I just… I was not expecting…"

She allowed her voice to fade away.

She was not expecting any of this. Not expecting to be assaulted by a high pitched perky little voice. Not expecting to be run over and definitely by the man she least wanted to see. She had anticipated a delightful afternoon walk through London, looking at the products and speaking to all the different people. She did not expect the pain of her fall or her violent outburst of words. Pocahontas blinked as John got off the cart. She watched as he hitched Storm up and swung into the driver's seat. The whole affair felt awkward, like all had gone wrong within a span of thirty minutes.

"I cannot get it out," John Smith regretfully apologized, "I am so sorry. I never, I never meant…"

"Right," the woman began as she breathed, "I will go and.-"

"I have a good friend who can fix this."

"What?"

His sudden statement caused her to pause from the half standing position she found herself in order to get down from the cart.

"Yes, his name is Ansgar Gwerder. He is an apothecary from Germany."

The princess shook her head, "What?"

"Ansgar can help you."

"I have wasted enough time here," she snapped as her injured hand clenched in the fabric of her gown, "I am going to try and find John Rolfe and that girl… Patti something.-"

"What street were you on?"

Her weary eyes swept the surroundings, "A street in London. We were on our way to the shopping district. The carriage dropped us off about… Somewhere…"

An abrupt wave of dizziness moved over her like a strong ocean wave. It resulted in her heavily sitting down on the wooden bench. In an instant John's head whirled around only to see Pocahontas's tired expression.

He ignored her protest as he signaled Storm to start moving. The cart jostled down the road, Pocahontas's energy going from protesting to just trying to hold onto the side of the cart. The captain's driving did nothing to settle the uneasy feeling in her stomach.

"Are you not going a bit fast?!"

Despite the wind his teasing tone reached her ears, "Where is your sense of adventure?"

"This is not funny! You could run over someone else. I also do not appreciate being mocked and…"

'Did I fall that hard? Did I lose that much blood?'

She thought as she shook her head. Immediately the lightheadedness struck, her uninjured hand clutching the bench to keep her from toppling.

At some point later, John Smith was thankfully forced to slow down as a crowd of people were up ahead. After catching her breath, Pocahontas leaned forward to try and see who all were milling about the road.

"I do not see John Rolfe anywhere," she commented, "He must be worried frantic about me!"

There was a pause as more space allowed John to move the cart farther down the street, "Once you are situated I will go and find him."

"If you would have just dropped me at his home this would not even be an issue," Pocahontas retorted, "Really, a friend of yours? Mrs. Jenkins is just as capable if not more so than your friend."

The captain did not reply as he sped up again although to the native's relief it was not as hurried. It did not take long for them to pull up to a square squat house. Though not on a busy road, noise could still be heard from the places they had left. A sudden movement from a window startled her as John Smith landed on the ground.

"Rolfe's estate is far off from here and you are in no condition to be hassled along for an extended amount of time. I drove quickly here now so you would not have to endure it later."

With those words spoken, Captain John Smith turned and walked up the short drive towards the door. Swallowing hard, Pocahontas eased herself off the hard surface and cautiously placed both feet where Smith had been standing. A sweet odor wafted from somewhere as she followed the path up to the house whilst John knocked.

The couple waited.

John Smith knocked again.

There was still no answer from the walls within the structure.

Just as John was about to knock a third time the door briskly opened.

It revealed a tall lanky woman. Her golden hair piled high on her head, blue eyes assessing before a warm smile lit her face.

"John Smith?"

Those were the only two words Pocahontas understood. The woman launched into a strange language, her hands wildly moving about as if trying to emphasize a point. Leaning against the wall found her looking in surprise as John replied in the same language. His gaze flicked to her and then back to whom he was speaking as a man's voice from somewhere within the house called out.

"Ansgar is here," the woman began in a thick accent, "He helps you with hand. My name is Eva. Ansgar is my… I am Ansgar wife."

"Thank you," Pocahontas softly replied as she was ushered inside. A cot leaned against the wall in the back, Eva gently steering her towards it. Sitting down, Eva knelt and started to undo Pocahontas's shoes.

"No, no no I am fine… You do not have.-"

Her eyes looked up to see John approaching Eva, saying something in the language. Eva nodded before continuing her task.

"Let her," John stated, "You will be more comfortable."

"What is going on?"

"Ansgar will help you and Eva will look after you."

"Where are you going?!"

She could not help the slight alarm in her voice as Ansgar moved a small table beside the cot.

"I thought you wished for me to go and find your fiancé?"

"What?! Leave me here?! I do not.-"

"I will stay then," John said as he brought a chair over and Ansgar motioned to see Pocahontas's hand, "I thought you wanted me to find him."

"You would leave me with complete strangers?"

"I know them," John defended, "They are the most trustworthy couple in London."

"What?"

"In my circle anyhow," Smith responded as he moved closer towards the table. Ansgar said something and John reached for Pocahontas's arm.

"I am going to hold your arm still. Hopefully this will not take long."

"It is fine, I can hold.-"

"No, you will not be able.-"

They were cut off by a loud pounding at the door and a frantic voice on the other side. Eva bolted towards the exit, yanking it open as a young boy stumbled at her feet.

"Günter!"

A string of words mixed with sobs, Ansgar nodding, Eva grabbing a satchel and her dashing out the door only took mere moments before it was the three of them.

"Günter's mother is in labor," John explained as he carefully leaned on her forearm atop the table, "Eva is a midwife."

"Can we just… Just do this?"

She never liked getting checked up on. Even in her village, she would always brush off whatever the problem would be. She would get it fixed herself or ask Nakoma to do it. Now surrounded by a total stranger and a man she thought she knew; Pocahontas could feel the trepidation amplify in her soul.

-..- "End of Chapter 1."-…-


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hi all!

So, this is ten pages! I do hope everyone is doing well! This chapter is brought to you by lack of proper sunlight. As well as staying up late. Lol! Thank you to everyone for such kind reviews! It is knowing that someone is eagerly awaiting an update that truly help the writing muses come out. I love and appreciate all of readers and reviewers so much! I do hope you enjoy this chapter and please leave your thoughts, suggestions and opinions in a review or private message.

I thank you greatly! You have a wonderful day!

DISCLAIMER: I still own nothing. This will never change. I have finally come to terms with this truth. The Disney company, history and real life will always own these interesting people.

Chapter2:

-…-….-…-

"You do not have to lean on me."

Those were the words that broke the silence as Ansgar readied his supplies on the table. Glancing over John's shoulder, Pocahontas could see the long needles and thread and she promptly looked away.

"You can then," John said as he straightened up from leaning on her arm, "However hold it firmly as you will flinch."

"I have a tattoo," Pocahontas countered, "Not many of them. I am sure I can handle stitching up a simple wound."

"That may be so," John replied, "However I am sure those were for religious reasons or intended for a tribal ceremony when you were most likely meditating or…-"

"How do you know that?"

She cut him off, unable to hide her surprise over the fact he knew a topic like that concerning her people.

"Lean on your arm," he answered as she obeyed noticing Ansgar ready another alcohol soaked cloth.

It did not hurt any less. Nor did the next one. Through gritted teeth and closed eyes, a few minutes later found the blood still trickling and the small object firmly stuck under the skin in her hand. Letting out a breath, she raised her head and watched as Ansgar rummaged around in a small box.

"I am giving you pain," he spoke as Pocahontas shook her head, "No no, I hurt you and I am sorry. It must be this way. I now give tea that will help you. I am sorry."

"It is alright," Pocahontas said feeling touched at the sincere look in the older man's eyes, "You do not have to give me anything. I do not wish to be any trouble for you."

A moment of quiet fell between them once more as Ansgar pulled out two items to join the others on the table.

A jar and very thin blade.

"This may taste very bad but will feel better soon," Ansgar said as she watched him dip a small wooden spoon in the jar that sat next to the blade and other items.

"This will help with the pain when he goes to cut your hand," John calmly explained whilst Ansgar measured a small amount onto the spoon.

"He has to cut my hand? Why is that?"

She hated the slight rise of panic that laced her words. The last thing she wanted to do was appear weak in front of anyone.

In front of him.

"The gravel is stuck and prodding it will not work."

She watched as Ansgar busied himself near the hearth, the silence ever growing as the older man set a kettle of water to boil and retrieved a small cup from a shelf. Allowing her eyes to fully open and take in her surroundings, Pocahontas found the small room to be tidy yet cluttered. Shelves of differing sizes lined the walls, every available surface being used for some object or jar. A privacy screen leaned against the bottom of her cot and the wall. She noted the thick blankets folded neatly in the corner and the kitchen items on the counter across the room. Every single thing had an odd order to the chaos in the tiny space. Her head turned as John shifted in his chair and she raised an eyebrow at the foreign language they spoke. When no more words appeared to be exchanged, Pocahontas asked a question that'd been plaguing her for some time.

"Why do you speak so harshly to him?"

"What?"

"Ansgar," Pocahontas motioned towards the man across the room, "The way you speak back and forth. It sounds harsh."

"Ah," John's gaze flicked to hers for the briefest of moments, "The language is called German. It is a very old language from Europe. That is just how German sounds however we are not speaking any unkind words to one another."

"That is interesting… Have you always known German?"

"Only a little," John replied, "Thomas knew the couple. Before I left Jamestown, he told me to try and get someone to find Ansgar. He said that he was a good man and knew his profession. I could never afford an actual physician so…"

At this revelation her mouth opened in astonishment, "He treated your wound?"

"Yes."

"That is why…"

'That is why he trusts them.' A voice said in her head whilst her expression softened.

"Were you very ill?"

She inquired suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. He had brought her here for a simple injury to her hand and the couple had promptly taken her in with no questions asked of her. An uneasy feeling settled somewhere within, though the native could not figure out what exactly pulled at her conscience. The feeling only intensified as she gazed around the room before looking at the cot where she now rested.

'Had he laid here?'

'Of course he had.'

Her mind seemed to answer the question just as it had formed and Pocahontas found no words to convey her thoughts. Her heart pounding against her chest like a drum, she not fully understanding why this simple fact impacted her so deeply.

The princess's musing was broken as Ansgar approached, placing down a cup in front of Pocahontas's uninjured hand. Her dark eyes flicked upwards to John's face as he inquired something in the peculiar language. After Ansgar had replied, an audible sigh was heard as Smith placed a hand to his forehead.

"What is it?"

"I think my friend is giving you too much," he replied as the other man chuckled.

"She will thank me," the German continued as he added honey to the opium tea, "You will start to feel different soon. Let it cool down first and please try not to spit it out when you taste it."

Pocahontas watched as he put away the implements and sat back in his chair.

"Go on," John encouraged after a few minutes had gone by; "Take a small sip."

Hesitantly, Pocahontas picked up the small glass and looked at the yellowish white liquid. Sighing, she took a small sip of the drink and promptly put the glass down on the stand. It took all of her willpower not to splatter the tea all over her dress.

"More honey," Ansgar stated whilst she choked down the mouthful of bitter tea.

"That… That…"

She coughed her eyes watering slightly, "That is simply awful!"

"I know," Ansgar chuckled, "Horrible taste yet you will forget all about it once the tea takes effect."

"I, I must drink this whole cup?"

"Perhaps she only needs just half of that amount," John stated whilst Pocahontas sipped more of the concoction.

Ansgar shrugged, "she will be fine with what I have given her. You do not have to be sparing with the honey my dear."

"Thank you," Pocahontas mumbled, "I must be honest and say that I rather get this over and done."

The native listlessly stirred the tea, adding more of the sweet honey though she doubted the entire pot would ever make it fully palatable. She sighed after swallowing another mouthful while shifting on the cot in order to sit more comfortably. She noted how Ansgar's gaze would flick to her and then towards the front window every few minutes.

Minutes that were starting to drag on and on for the princess. The only sounds being heard filtered through the door from outside the dimly lit room. She noted the wheels against the cobblestone, people's far off voices and the whinny of a horse. It was during a low in the noise when Pocahontas finally looked up at John's face.

"What are we waiting for?"

"The medicine to effect you," John answered whilst Ansgar gazed out the window.

"How, what am I going to feel?"

"It is different for everyone."

"Have you taken it?"

"Yes."

She waited for him to elaborate farther. However, when he remained silent she reached for his hand in order to get his attention.

"Tell me, what will I feel? When is it going to start?"

After a pause he replied, "It should not take long. When you finish the cup it should be about a half an hour. Perhaps even less time than that."

John looked about the room, feeling uneasy of what the effects of this drug may cause her to say or do.

"You have not answered my question," Pocahontas said as she squeezed his hand, "What will happen?"

After a moment's hesitation he replied, "You will feel very warm. You will feel very relaxed and sleepy. I felt as if I were under a heavy blanket. You may experience the same."

Pocahontas arched an eyebrow, "Honestly that sounds dreadful in this heavy dress."

John chuckled and stood as she drank more of the tea, "I can open a window for you to get some fresh air."

This merely caused her to grip his hand tighter, "There is no need for I feel fine now."

"Move up near her head," the captain noticed how Ansgar's voice startled Pocahontas as she at long last finished her tea.

John Smith obeyed, sliding his chair so that it sat where the man had indicated at the left of the bed. The German stood as the woman exhaled a breath in the quiet.

Minutes dragged on, Ansgar situating the items whilst the others looked on. Turning her gaze towards John Smith, he noted how she suddenly jerked when her eyes met his.

"Are you alright?"

"That is a lot of blue… I think… So…"

It came as a long drawn out reply. Placing a hand to his forehead, he spoke in German to Ansgar even as the other lit two candles.

"I know what I am doing," Ansgar snapped in English as John sat back in his chair.

"Look at her eyes."

Unfortunately, Pocahontas had her head down, dark strands framing her face in the candles light.

"Look up, look at me," Ansgar softly said as Pocahontas slowly raised her head. Her wide dark eyes gazed at Smith's azure orbs, the stare so intense that for a fleeting moment he wanted nothing more than to look away. He felt his heart clench, unwanted thoughts invading his mind like an overwhelming army. For an all too brief moment, they gazed at one another through the mist of a waterfall before an intake of breath brought him back to reality. Reaching with his other hand, Smith was able to turn her head towards his friend.

"She is ready," Ansgar said as her large glossy eyes met his, "I can tell by looking at her. Can you feel this?"

John could tell she was out of focus as Ansgar pressed the tip of a needle directly in the wound where he would begin to sew. Pocahontas hardly flinched, however the action was there so the German placed the instrument down on the table.

"I feel… I see what you mean John…"

He tried to ignore the soft way she said his name along with her head leisurely turning in his direction, "I do feel very warm and relaxed. I wish…"

The two men watched as she moved her hands towards the collar of her gown. Once John realized what she was doing, he placed his hand on top of her wrists in order to put them back on the table.

"What?"

Pocahontas shifted, and then fisted her hands as the room tilted and her eyes slammed shut at the sudden spinning motion she felt.

"I… Am… I… Sorry?"

"Prop her up," the German said as John placed pillows behind her back in order for the native woman to sit upright. Pushing the needle into the wound once again, the older man sighed as she didn't move.

"Thank God," he murmured as Pocahontas smiled.

"Why did you let go?"

Though her eyes remained on Ansgar, it appeared she was not truly looking at him as she brought her uninjured hand up to scratch her face.

"I feel hot…"

"No worries," Ansgar said, "Just stay still."

John's hand found hers as she scratched her cheek, "It is alright. There is nothing on your face."

"Crawly things…"

John noted Ansgar's quick work with the needle and thread on Pocahontas's skin. He watched the fingerlike projections of the wound come together as the man deftly sewed. When it came time to cut her in order to extract the object in Pocahontas's hand, John firmly yet gently held her arm in place to prevent any sudden movements. The bloody stone fell off her palm and rolled on the flat surface before coming to rest near the edge. John Smith could not help glaring at the thing as he chucked it across the room, it hitting the wall in the corner.

"Take that cloth and put a little more alcohol on it. Wipe that area I haven't gotten to stitch yet."

"What, you will not say please?"

Smith joked even though his short laugh sounded foreign to his ears.

Ansgar soundly met his eyes, "Why say please when you would swim to France if she needed anything? I may not go to court but I know who I am assisting."

"I asked if you could help a friend of mine and…-"

"Do you forget I treated your wound? You stayed here for months."

The woman suddenly inquired, "Who is France?"

A palpable stillness hung in the air. It settled like a fog, Ansgar's gaze holding for a moment longer before going back to his task.

"I remember things you said," the man's voice seemed to hover in the small space before landing at his next words, "You had many cups of opium tea. We worried greatly through your fevers. I remember the night Eva stayed up with you during one of your fits."

He knew he could never deny all that had been said. All that had been remembered. John Smith was smart enough to discern that he would never truly identify every utterance. The captain looked away as he sighed. The young man desperately wanting to change the subject. Smith narrowed his eyes at the skilled apothecary.

Whilst he willed his heart to freeze.

His salvation came in the form of Pocahontas's laughter, "Fraaaance… Who is it?"

John exhaled in relief as he shook his head. Whatever Eva and Ansgar had heard, it was some years ago and said while the captain had been in pain, infected, suffering from opium withdraw as well as ailments that he could not recall. Besides, the woman sitting here was engaged to a respected gentleman. Smith had been made aware that the Rolfe name had gone back generations of high standing and class in London.

"It is nothing Pocahontas… She is the woman from Virginia that helped and is now successful with securing the peace between…-"

The native interrupted, "Who is France? Is that your mistress?"

"No," john sharply replied, "France is…-"

"What?"

Ansgar could not help the smirk on his face, "I knew you had visited but…-"

"France is a country… It is a very big village Pocahontas. There are many people in this village."

The German raised an eyebrow, "Why must you speak so loud?"

"Pocahontas and I had a diplomatic relationship. Ansgar, why insinuate otherwise?"

No reply came as John dabbed the alcohol soaked cloth across the gash in Pocahontas's hand. She stared off into no particular point, until her gaze landed on Smith's face.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as Ansgar finally put down the needle, cleaned the wound and then started to bandage her right hand.

"I am a diplomat? We… We were… You said… A hun-hundred years…"

"Hush," John began as he swallowed, "It is alright. Ansgar is almost done."

"But you promised… You be with me…"

"Hush…"

A single tear made its way down her face as Ansgar quickly finished his task. Pocahontas's head lulled to one side, her body feeling heavy as if trying to move through wet sand.

"Dip… Dip… Dip-lomat… We ran through a field and had so much fun!"

She laughed whilst falling back against the pillows, "Flowers! I fell on top of you… Sorry… So warm… Miss my dress… Miss home… Home… You… I miss you John Smith."

Ansgar inquired as he stood, "Do you want me to find Mr. Rolfe?"

"What is that?"

John shrugged, "She is not making sense."

"Ha! You… You liar… Flowers… Meadow… Do you understand now?"

"Pocahontas… Hush…"

"I must fetch more supplies and I want to see in on Eva to make certain she does not require anything," Ansgar said as John looked helplessly at the door.

"Has she been gone that long?"

"Have you not heard the bells?"

"Will you go and try to locate John Rolfe? I am certain he is frantic about her."

"I know he lives in London," Ansgar responded, "Do you know a street or something to look for?"

"I can write down his information… I do hope he has not contacted the authorities I mean…-"

Ansgar interrupted John as he put on his coat, "It will not be difficult. Look after her."

He then was gone, shutting the door after grabbing his things.

The captain was left in the house as Pocahontas slumped to her side. She now lay facing him, her arms out in front of her so that the tips of her fingers brushed his knee. John observed his friend had thankfully removed all the items from the table so there had been nothing for Pocahontas to cut herself on as she moved.

"Help…"

"It is alright…"

Sighing, John with Pocahontas's feeble attempts undid the clasps of her soiled gown. The thing was covered in grit and blood from the fall and the corset tightly laced preventing her from taking a full breath.

"Better… So much… So… So… So… Question… Ah… Is the sewing done?"

"Yes," John answered as he tossed the garments onto a bench.

"What… Don't know if I like this medicine…"

"It will wear off soon," John replied as Pocahontas stretched.

She now lay flat against the pillows, her cotton shift edging to her knees. John glanced at her face as she yawned, her arms folded across her chest. Her head turned towards him, soulful brown eyes meeting his blue.

"I feel so safe with you…"

He was not certain how much more he could take. A night of interrogation in the tower was more preferable than this. Better than having to look upon the woman who chose another, whilst cursing himself for not going after her in the first place.

'Why fates torment me at this time?'

'Is that why you stopped to help?'

Smith shook his head, wanting nothing more than to look away from her face.

"Pocahontas… Please… You do not understand what you are saying. It is the medicine causing you…"

The captain's voice trailed off as her left hand found his, she raising it to her lips placing a gentle kiss on his skin.

"I comprehend… But you… I am just… Just… Diplomat… If…"

Pocahontas lowered her uninjured hand, thus putting John's palm near where her neck and shoulder meet. He could merely stare down at her as she cradled his hand, a sad smile blooming on her beautiful face.

"Diplomat…"

"No," his voice was strained, "No… God, no… Pocahontas…"

"Did you see something?"

John froze as his mind recognized the playful tone, "Look again…"

"Stop… Go to sleep."

The native giggled, "Anything you want!"

"You liked willow…"

He watched her lips move, her speech becoming more languid. Her dark eyes fluttering shut, her grip slackened.

"Own land…"

"What did you say?"

He leaned closer, her breath against his cheek as she sighed. It may have been a small turn of someone's head but their lips softly met. The native's mouth slightly parted, causing the captain to pull away as if cold water had been thrown on him.

For if he did not, the thinning ice around his heart would melt. He knew the gushing words he longed to say to her, knew how his body desired to hold and kiss her. John Smith backed away, letting go of her hand and smoothing down the front of his shirt. He could tell by Pocahontas's deep even breaths that she had finally drifted to sleep.

That fact only left him with a single prayer to God that someone would hastily return. Letting out a shaky breath, John Smith waited for deliverance.

-…-..—End of chapter 2….-….-…-


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hi all!

I won't get into all the reasons why this chapter is so late in coming. I do not want to bore you with real life stuff so onto the chapter!

I must say a special shout out to everyone that has reviewed. Yes, even Guest reviewers who I can't personally thank. All your reviews, ideas and suggestions mean so much! More than you will ever realize! I truly appreciate the time you take in writing about your thoughts. Reviews are like food to my writing muses and I feel so honored that I actually have people that really want to read my writing.

Now, I do understand that this is written a little differently throughout. If anyone has any questions to ask please do! Also, I am sorry for not getting back to everyone life has been simply crazy over the last 4 months. If any of you have any opinions of what you'd like to see in this story please let me know!

I hope you enjoy the read God bless and thanks for clicking!

Flames will always be used to light firewood and candles.

DISCLAIMER: I still do not own anything to do with Pocahontas. History and the Disney Co. own everything. I do own any OCS you may see but if you'd like to use them just ask and I'll most likely say heck yeah we need more Pocahontas fanfiction!

Chapter 3:

-…-..-

He thought waiting was his strong suit.

After all, he had always waited for the appropriate time. The correct time to strike, say the truth, love, write and deal the killing blow. John Smith had always been careful to orchestrate every detail so that it would be to his advantage in life.

This tactic did not always work.

One moment his fervent prayers were moving towards heaven, her sleeping lovely face filled his vision and the rhythm of the carriage wheels filtered through the outside door.

Then it all stopped.

-…-…-…- Red.

All he sees is red.

Red like blood and fire. Crimson splashes through the sky at sunrise. Merely to appear over the water at sundown.

All he feels is pain. His side is a constant hot metal brand and his throat is raw. His entire body heaves and shakes with pain, fever, cold, sadness and longing. Yearning for peace, warmth, her touch, her gentle voice whispering or chanting in order to keep the evil spirits from snatching him from the world. The captain not being able to remember such agony. He knows he would cease breathing if only he could.

All he smells is bitter herbs. He picks out sage; however it is mixed with so many others that he cannot understand why they are there.

All he tastes is bile. Even water is a struggle. Not to mention the thin broth, pungent tea, and thick tonics.

All he calls for is her. Her name, people, village, sweetness, kiss, memories, joy and every color of the wind.

"He longs for this Pocahontas."

He inquires of the faint voice that somehow makes its way through his delirium, "God, where is she? Eva? Ansgar… If you know… I need… I miss her, need h…"

He tries to pull away from the cold cloth on his heated forehead.

"Hush, be still Captain Smith… Be still…"

"Pocahontas? How, is that you?"

John Smith does not see Eva glance over her shoulder.

"Shhh…"

"Quite right, we will go running through Lincolnshire. Would you like that?"

John hears the hesitant reply, "Yes…"

He allows his mind to drift. The captain lets himself believe it is her. The one who taught him so much when he thought he knew it all. The one who had taken his hand and guided him through the wide open meadows and the lush forests of her homeland. Pocahontas's hand is small yet firm as for once in his life the captain feels that he belongs.

He now feels like he is floating down the clearest river he has ever seen. Yet she is slipping away from him, the current moving strong and swift.

"Come back… My friend…"

A sudden gasp as if coming up for air. He opens his eyes and then slams them shut for the brightness is too much.

"My love. We can swim at the sea near Willoughby. So cold… Water… Please, water? No no, I you please Pocahontas… Ratcliffe is going to him…"

"Hush, you are safe here. You are safe. Captain Smith, you are safe here. Safe…"

"Do, not, care," he says slowly whilst the tremors grip his body and the fever persists, "Must… You must tell her keep her… I must ask… Must return… Must leave…-"

"John, it is Eva. You cannot… You are in England. Do you understand? Look at me… Look at me… Open your eyes. Can you do that? Please, please look at me."

He senses panic in her tone. Ansgar's voice is somewhere in the room as a draft causes John Smith to shiver again. He notes another heavy blanket being added to the pile.

"I will pack…"

The captain cannot even lift his head off the pillow.

-…-…-.—

He felt the sudden hand on his shoulder.

Only then did he sit bolt upright, the startled sound not having a chance to leave his lips before Ansgar spoke, "John Rolfe is outside."

The words came out through gritted teeth, "Bloody hell…"

"I am sorry for startling you my friend."

A tired sigh was the captain's reply as he shoved a hand through his hair, "Anyone else?"

Another breath was all he needed for his voice to sound normal again. The captain could contribute the slight trembling of his body to the chill in the air. The fact he had not realized he'd fallen asleep was of no consequence.

"Well yes, that girl is with him and the gentleman was not pleased that he was not notified…-"

-…-…-…-

Voices.

All she heard were voices.

Raised ones at that. They filtered through her dreams like sand through her fingertips.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Pocahontas was not sure at that moment; however she made a decision to sort it out later.

For now, she was content to linger somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. In that instant, the native princess wanted nothing more than to stand in between awareness and slumber. She knew that she should face reality however in her current state the woman could not.

Pocahontas felt warm. Secure in blankets and free from the corseted breathing she had to endure on a daily basis. Her hand did not throb and she noted a strange calmness.

"I did what I thought was best. You were goodness knows where and Pocahontas did not know where you were."

"Come off it Smith, why the hell did you not take her to my home? I would have the most excellent care for her!"

Her body and mind froze simultaneously.

She was no longer walking through the forest of her homeland, holding the hand of a blue eyed stranger. Her lips no more felt his in grandmother willow's glade. Her ears heard neither sweet words nor her name from his deep voice. Though her mind knew better, her heart had locked her mind away. It was as if all rational thought had been taken captive.

"J-John…-"

It was all she could manage while a woman nearby cleared her throat.

"If I may, Captain John Smith is a good man. I am certain he had the best in mind even if his judgment was a bit… A little… Even if his judgment was a trifle reckless."

A breath was heard, "Reckless? You deem my judgment reckless? I will have you know Miss Winters…-"

Patricia hastened to continue, "Not that reckless is a horrible thing! I merely intended to illustrate the differences in…-"

"No, no no ah…"

"It is alright Pocahontas," Rolfe soothed whilst brushing the hair off her face. It did no good as she groaned again, gritting her teeth against consciousness.

Nevertheless, Pocahontas could recognize that high pitch voice anywhere. Along with recognition came a wave of nausea and bone chilling cold. The native tentatively opened her eyes, only to shut them as John Rolfe's face swam in front of her. Every sensation came back in immediate harsh succession. From the throbbing in her head, trembling of her whole being, searing pain in her wounded hand, the red raw feeling of her skin to the swimming in her stomach. She was very aware nothing about her was alright.

"Look at her! She is in no condition…-"

"Try, try to sit up darling. Can you do that? Pocahontas, it is alright. We shall travel nice and easy back home."

"Wha-what? Home?"

The native could not tell if the room was truly spinning or if she was moving in order to sit up. Her tongue felt weighed down, making speech a considerable effort. She sensed the spinning ease as she placed her hands on the mattress. The woman blinked, taking in Smith's figure at the head of the cot.

"Open your eyes. Can you do that? Open your eyes and focus on me."

John Rolfe's gently coaxing voice enabled her to get a hand on top of the blanket. She nearly gasped as he took her uninjured hand in his rough cold one.

"Excellent well done! We are going to sit you up now."

"I would not recommend that," Smith said as Rolfe bent over her.

"You can… Can you give me your other hand?"

"Mr. Rolfe, I would not move her."

The room went back to normal as Pocahontas felt herself being laid back against the pillows.

"What the hell were you thinking to give her opium! Do you not know she will crave for it now?"

"Not one cup…-"

"It will be mild however I simply cannot let this lady stay here!"

"You would have done the same thing!"

"I would not have given her such an amount of opium! Look at her!"

"If it makes you feel better, I had a dreadful scrape once and I had two cups and I was perfectly fine."

"You should listen to Miss Winters," John Smith said as he ran a hand through his hair.

No one could tell what the catalyst was in the moment. It may have been the raised voices, sounds of dishes in the background or the light in the room. It could have been the smell of bread or the pain in her hand. A cool draft in the room or Eva's greeting announcing that the labor had gone well. Perhaps it was her exclamation of surprise, erratic hand movements, and Rolfe's voice inquiring after her credentials accompanied by Eva's indignant tone. Time seemed to speed up and yet slow down completely at once. All she was certain of was the ever growing nausea in her stomach and the increasing excruciating pulsing in her head. It was as if she were a forgotten kettle of water, put on the hearth to boil and was now going to spill over.

As if being pushed upwards by a strong current of water, Pocahontas sat up, took a shuddering breath and promptly vomited.

Captain Smith was the first to react, grabbing her long ebony tresses away from her face. The blankets around her shoulders slipped, revealing her in nothing but a thin shift.

"Oh, God! Oh my!"

She felt her body heave as the contents of her stomach emptied onto the blankets around her. When she was finally done her body fell backwards, Pocahontas's breathing coming in fast whilst she twitched in Smith's arms.

John Rolfe stood in a daze, her sickness running down his shirt whilst he tried to cover his eyes. On the other side of the room, Patricia made a retching sound before dashing outside.

After a moment of stunned silence Eva spoke, "That is enough. John Rolfe, take your lady and go home."

"I, I would, I that am to say ma'm I tried but Smith said… He said not to move her and I did… I am so sorry Pocahontas… You poor thing…-"

"Enough," Eva repeated, "You go with the lady outside."

"But miss…"

"Go on," Eva began as she handed Rolfe a towel, "Go on. This woman will be fine here. I will tend to her."

Pocahontas watched through half lidded eyes as Rolfe shuffled towards the door.

"It is alright," Ansgar quietly told the gentleman, "Eva is a midwife. She will look after the princess."

Rolfe's mumbled, "Thank you."

"I was not really sick I just cannot handle the smell," was the last thing she heard Patricia say before the door closed and her body arched before she sat up and was sick again.

-..-…End of Chapter 3…-…-…-..-


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi all!

I know… I know… I'm sorry! It has been way too long and I realize this chapter is short. I just had to get something out for you my good readers. This is what people usually call a transition chapter.

I want to say a special thank you to a reviewer who goes by, "Guest." I appreciate your reviews and how they've given me motivation and encouragement. This past year has been a rough one for me since I last updated. Also, a note on my story, "Before Dawn," it will be updated and I am working on the final chapter. The chapter thus far is about 5 pages and has a while to go yet. I make no promises as to an upload date. Just know it is getting worked on! For those of you that don't know what I'm referring to just feel free to look at my profile for other Pocahontas fics! (Or Lion King Wicked and other fandoms I can't think of at the moment.)

Now that shameless plug is done, Enjoy! You deserve better than this chapter so I hope and pray I can make it up to you in chapter 5.

I hope you enjoy and if any of you ever have suggestions or ideas please do not hesitate in sending me a pm or leaving them in a review. Thank you too all my lovely readers!

-….-….

Chapter 4:

-..-..-..-

'I will tend to her.'

Those had been Eva's words from what seemed to be a lifetime ago to the young woman who now lay on a fresh clean cot. Snuggling into the thick blankets, Pocahontas allowed a contented sigh to leave her lips. The chills had stopped and the nauseating feeling had greatly diminished. She knew the warm broth was responsible for her improved physical health. The soothing hot bath went a long way as well. She still felt very weak, but the fog in her head had cleared.

"You may leave now John smith," Eva directed as she slid the dressing screen in place, "I must see to her. Did you fetch the water and bathing supplies as I asked? Good, very good…"

Pocahontas could not remember Eva asking him to do such a thing.

'Did I truly fall asleep after my last bout of sickness?'

The princess knew she must have as there was no explanation for the lapses in time. There were bits and pieces she could not recall and yet she was certain she had not been asleep the whole procedure.

Memories danced in her mind like couples on a dance floor. Each memory pairing off with another equally vivid thought. Though her body was relaxed, Pocahontas's mind was alert and reeling.

Eva's conversation doing nothing to slow the tumult of emotions. The clamor seemed to magnify as she heard movement in the next room.

-..-..-..

"This is all so very kind of you," Pocahontas thanked Eva as the older woman helped her disrobe and sit in the tub, "I very much appreciate…-"

"Think nothing of it," Eva dismissed her praise with a flick of the wrist, "Think nothing of it. Lean your head back."

Pocahontas did as she was told whilst Eva's long fingers went through her disheveled hair. After a few silent moments, Eva spoke.

"You will feel better soon," Pocahontas winced as Eva worked a knot in her hair, "The broth will help settle you."

"It already has," Pocahontas said, "Is there something in the broth?"

Eva smiled, "It is very simple."

Pocahontas waited for her to go on speaking, yet when silence fell once more she closed her eyes. The massaging touch on her head coupled with the hot water greatly relaxed the young woman. She knew it was the first time in London she'd felt this way.

Until the older woman spoke, "John Smith went through a great deal. He endured a time of horrendous trial."

"I am sure of it," Pocahontas stated as Eva tutted disapprovingly. Due to her position in the water, she could not see the other woman's face.

"You are not sure," Eva began whilst rinsing Pocahontas's hair, "For you do not know. Tell me, is your father well?"

Perplexed by Eva's tone the native slowly answered, "Yes, yes my father is very well. He was sad to hear of his death. I am certain he will be thrilled to learn the truth."

"Hmmm… At the risk of paraphrasing Pontius Pilate what is truth?"

"Who? What?"

"What will you tell your father once you return to Virginia?"

Still pondering Eva's last statement it took a moment for Pocahontas to answer. Yet when she did, she noted how her voice wavered.

"I, I will tell him that John Smith did not die. I know my father would wonder as to why we were told of his death… John never wrote revealing to us that he was alive."

"I see," Eva said as she helped Pocahontas to sit up in the tub, "Here is some soap. Ah, I need another cloth I will only be a moment. Also, was it that John Smith did not write to you or was it could he not write to you?"

"What? What do you mean?"

Her reply was the sliding of the dressing screen, Eva's footsteps heading towards the other room.

Whilst Pocahontas reeled from the unexpected notion.

As the older woman returned with the cloth, the native prompted Eva to explain her statement. Her questions went unanswered as she shook her head and proceeded to talk of her children.

"My Alaric is in the army defending our homeland," Eva spoke as she dried Pocahontas's hair, "My girl Ilsa is a nun. She prays for her brother, all in our homeland and abroad. I shan't get any grandchildren any time soon…"

Pocahontas nodded yet felt her eyes become heavy. It was then Eva started humming, a soothing sound as she wrapped Pocahontas in a soft robe. Half stumbling she'd been lead towards the blazing fire in order to chase away any dampness that remained.

As it were, Pocahontas had been roused enough to be put to bed where she now lay awake. No matter how hard she tried, sleep would not come.

'He did not forget you.'

A voice said in her mind as fragments of a memory surfaced.

"I feel so safe with you…"

His warm hand in her own.

"I am just… Just… Diplomat…"

"No," his voice was strained, "No… God, no… Pocahontas…"

Pocahontas shivered as she registered his tone. Had she truly been so weak?

Was he so broken by her choices?

Was she as well?

'What did I say?'

Pocahontas thought as she shifted in the cot.

"Stop… Go to sleep."

She remembered his blue eyes were somber as he had gazed down at her. A sigh left her lips as she brought her hand up in order to touch her cheek.

Where she swore she'd felt his breath caress her skin prior to his lips touching hers.

Pocahontas gasped as if coming up for air as she quickly sat up, and then clutched her head as a pain shot through it.

'Did that truly happen?'

'No… Must be a hallucination.'

Her mind was at war. It seemed her heart was trying to join the fray as it leapt in her chest like a young deer at the prospect.

"Are you alright?"

Pocahontas answered immediately, "What?"

"You are holding your head," Eva said as she neared the cot.

"I, I am fine… I just realized… I mean… I just thought of something."

"I see."

Not bothering to ask what the mug contained, Pocahontas took it from the German woman's proffered hand and swallowed. Fortunately, the cool liquid was sweet and held another flavor the native could not place.

"What was that?"

"Something for your headache," Eva replied as Pocahontas handed her the mug, "Sometimes people can get head pains after that medicine."

The princess looked down as she played with the blankets at her waist. A light rain began to fall outside as Pocahontas noted the drops hitting the roof.

"It will last all night," the older woman said as a gust of wind blew the rain against the windows, "My husband predicts it will rain tomorrow as well."

"Eva," Pocahontas carefully began, "That medicine that Ansgar provided me… Does it give you memories?"

"No," she replied, "I mean it does not cause people to make things up in their minds."

"So… If I believe I've remembered something whilst in the grips of that tea then…"

"You most likely said something," Eva supplied after Pocahontas's voice trailed off.

Shoulders slumped, the princess allowed Eva to arrange the blankets around her form. The younger woman could not help but chuckle as she flipped her pillow over before Pocahontas leaned back.

"Sleep well Milady," Eva straightened as she made certain the curtains covered the window nearest to Pocahontas's head, "All will be revealed in time."

Long after Eva left the small room, her words followed into the native's dreams.

-End of Chapter 4-….-


End file.
